


Laendler

by wanderlustfull



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, cheesy as hell, fluff for your quarantine, it's the sound of music guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23668747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustfull/pseuds/wanderlustfull
Summary: David is certainly surprised to find out what Joe's favorite movie is, and even more so at how it has a way of bringing the two of them closer.
Relationships: Joseph Liebgott/David Kenyon Webster
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47





	Laendler

_\- The very beginning._

“You don’t like modern movies?” David hears someone ask behind him, “Just- none of them?”

It's Monday afternoon in history, and time is stretched out long and weary.

“I don’t mind them,” Miller's voice replies hesitantly. “I’m just more into classics. You know, like Top Gun, Star Wars, Ghostbusters…”

Roy Cobb whistles. “Aren’t you interesting.”

David tries to concentrate on the work in front of him, in the hope it can deafen the sound of Cobb speaking. But he physically can't bring himself to read anymore, and there's no such luck.

“Oh, and The Sound of Music, that one’s great,” Miller adds.

Cobb snorts. “The Sound of Music is the most boring fucking movie.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

David glances over his shoulder at the sound of Joe Liebgott’s voice.

“Seriously? Come on -” Cobb counters. “Kids who run around in the mountains for three hours with shitty music playing in the background?”

By the time he’s finished the sentence Joe has gotten up and walked over to them. He looks mad, pissed even. Like he’s totally appalled at the insinuation that three hours is a long time. For a second David thinks he’s going to do something stupid like push the guy, but he only crosses his arms defensively and sneers.

“You’re wrong,” is all he says.

Cobb raises his eyebrow sceptically, and seems, much like everyone around him, pretty surprised that Joseph _I will shove you for blocking my way in the hallway_ Liebgott gives enough shits about a 1960s musical to stand up and walk over ten feet to defend it.

“Nah.”

“Yeah,” Joe nods at him insistently. “That film is amazing - Fantastic. It’s my favourite fucking movie of all time and I feel for you and your evidently empty childhood without it.”

“The Sound of Music is your favourite movie of all time, seriously?” Bill Guarnere, who’s also been listening in, asks him from his seat.

“Yeah, it is,” Joe repeats insistently. 

Nixon comes back then, hair the usual bit dishevelled and coffee in hand, to snap David out of it. Everyone’s in their seats again promptly. 

Some time later, David chances a look to the the back of class. He sees Joe grab some kind of notes block out of his bag, in which he begins to draw something outside the window. Joe catches his eye then.

 _"What?"_ he mouths.

It’s a good question, David thinks reluctantly. Joe is definitely many things, though not often surprising. It reminds him how they haven't really even spoken for months. David just narrows his eyes and turns away.

- _What a duet_

“You need another grade this semester,” Nixon announces at the end of class one day, while inspecting some form in his hands. “Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s terrible. Just shut up.” He goes on, ignoring the groans from his audience. “So, reflections and interpretations of history in art and the media- like we’ve been discussing. You’re gonna pick one movie that addresses a topic we’ve studied and write a report on it in pairs. How does that sound?”

The second Shifty Powers’ hand goes up it is dismissed. “Don’t even ask, I’ve already made them,” Nixon says as the bell goes. “I’ll post the list later, make sure you check it."

Before David can leave class, Nixon asks him to stay back. The two of them wait as everyone trickles out the door.

“What can I do for you, sir?” David asks when it finally shuts.

He’s surprised to find his teacher actually looking a little worried, which is _highly_ unusual for Nixon. David remembers how he hid his dog under his desk at school for a full week while teaching, and the shitshow that was calming down the principal when he found out about it.

“Would you mind working with Joe for this next project?”

“Sorry?”

Nixon just nods at him in affirmation, eyes squinted like he's expecting backlash. 

David tries to swallow the wave of discomfort that hits him “Do you really think that's a good idea, sir?” 

It's not a good idea, David tries to say, but Nixon goes on. 

“Look I know the two of you've got your issues, but you could learn from this- both of you,” Nixon pauses to change tact when he senses David’s hesitation. “You really want to spend the rest of the time you have here at war with him?”

They've never seen eye to eye. Joe has made it very clear what he thinks of David; pretentious and artificial, prone to never shut the fuck up. It doesn't really matter, because David knows Joe is a blunt smartass looking for fights. Nixon knows this better than anyone else, having had the misfortune of supervising most of their debate shit shows, and he really ought to know better.

So should David, when he finds himself nodding resignedly anyway.

“Yeah? Great. You’ll be fine,” Nixon says returning behind his desk. “Let me know if there’s any issues.”

Fending off the sympathetic pats on the back from his friends the next day becomes his greater problem. He and Joe sit on opposite sides on the room, and he spends the hour distracted over how to do this. He's well aware that they're both good students. They have the same friends in common, they occasionally share a lunch table, and they've known each other for years. And he decides he's more than capable of putting personal issues aside for a few weeks.

“You’ll have to fill me in,” David says hovering around the front of Joe’s desk. "I don’t really remember what happens – seeing as I was about four the last time I saw it…” Joe looks up from some kind of sketch he’s working on to give David his full attention. 

“I’m sort of familiar with the themes at least,” David reasons in a mumble.

“What?” 

“The Sound of Music?” David tries.

Joe frowns. “You actually wanna do it?”

“We could make it about Anschluss and politics, I guess. If we skim over the other bits.” From the now somewhat confused look on Joe’s face, David can tell he’s surprised. 

“Okay.”

David nods, a little lost on his feet. Joe throws the rest of his stuff together, and shoots him one more indifferent look.

“Make sure you watch it sometime then,” he reminds him when he slings his bag over his shoulder. 

Before David can ask him any more about meeting up and doing the work, he’s already bolted out the room.

- _Favorite things_

Nixon gives them a generous two and a half weeks to do the work, which eases David’s mind a little. He can easily put off talking to Joe for a few more days, but it proves to be difficult when everyone has somehow learnt what Joe’s favorite movie is.

“Not to be that guy, Joe,” Babe starts over lunch one day, “I haven’t seen it in years - I mean loved it of course when I first watched it with my mom... And well I was just a young kid I guess, so forgive me if I’ve forgotten, but the running around in hills is a big part of it right, the singing?”

“Yeah of course, Babe,” Joe confirms. “But there’s more to it.”

“Wait-what's this about?” Joe Toye asks as he opens a bag of Cheetos.

“Should’ve been there, Joe” Bill answers for him. “Herr Liebgott defended Julie Andrews honor to the whole class. Claimed the Sound of Music was the best damn movie of all time.”

Joe shoots him a dark look. “Objectively true.”

“Well what’s the deal with that movie then, Joe?” 

“Why don’t you just watch it, Guarnere?”

“Don’t have to - David's gonna tell me all about it,” Bill says clapping David on the back beside him, who in turn asks the ground to swallow him at its earliest convenience. 

“The two of you are paired up?” Toye asks snorting. “I love it.”

“Why don’t you all just fuck off?” Joe retorts. 

David _strongly_ shares the sentiment, but refrains from saying anything. He peers down hard into his plate.

“Who you working with Bill?” Luz demands in between what are virtually giggles.

“Babe of course,” Bill responds contentedly. “Even Nixon wants me to pass and graduate. I'm sure we'll make everyone look like amateurs.”

Doubt that,” Joe challenges from nowhere. “Twenty bucks say we get a better grade,”

David turns to look at him across the table in alarm, but Bill has already offered his hand. 

“Deal. Babe’s got brains - all that undiscovered potential, it's all right there.”

At his friend’s boasting, Babe looks distinctly nervous prodding at his ready noodles. “You're paying if we lose…” he mutters.

“He will be,” Joe assures raising his half empty soda can in toast to David’s general direction. “David’s a genius prodigy too, I’m not worried.” 

“One of the nicer things you’ve said about me Joe," David responds.

- _An empty page_

Nixon springs a surprise trip to some museum on them the next Monday, which he’s pitched it as a whole big deal to the board of course; Nixon is very good at improvising. David’s quite certain it’s mostly a plan to give everyone a day off, seeing as Mr Winters is the only one coming along to supervise.

Said supervision turns out to consist of a “have fun and be back here at 3pm sharp” before the two of them walk off somewhere together and the shits they give are confirmed officially. And seeing as David’s already been here twice by himself, he naturally ends up outside on a bench with a book.

It’s a good story; subplots with subplots, pretty engaging. Which is why when someone sits down next to him, he doesn’t really take notice. 

It’s only when Joe's voice greeting him shatters the silence that David shakes and almost drops the book on the floor.

“Jesus, chill,” Joe offers.

Joe peers over at the cover then. “Spain?”

“Yeah," David says skeptically. "You read it?”

Joe puts on his best ‘try me’ face. “Yeah. I love reading.” He leisurely drops down on the far side of the bench beside him. 

“So, you worried about working with me?” Joe asks. 

“No,” David answers without meeting his eyes.

"I didn't want to work with you," he admits candidly." Then I remembered you do actually know a few things about twentieth century history."

"Charming." 

"So we'll get a good grade,” Joe stresses. “Contrary to popular opinion I do actually give a shit.”

"I know."

He nods. "Good."

“Okay,” David says, finally looking up at him. “When can we get started?”

Joe narrows his eyes. “You already wanna work? Jesus, its due in like two weeks”

“They're deadlines, not suggestions.”

He rolls his eyes at him. “So, you’ve seen it already then?”

“What?”

“Have you watched the movie already?” Joe enquires again.

David shakes his head. “No, not yet.” 

Joe shakes his head. “Come round on Friday then. We’ll still have enough time.”

“You mean - come to your house?”

“I’ve got the 50th anniversary edition,” Joe tells him with some considerable degree of pride. “We might as well see it together. Don’t think I’m not making you watch extras.”

“And then we’ll finish this thing in under a week?

“All my best stuff is done last minute,” David must still look sceptical, because Joe pauses. “I know the story – and the history actually - inside out, so we’re halfway done already…” 

“Right.”

Joe makes sure to very obviously looks David up and down. “Just promise me you won’t show up in some formal get up, or my mom will swoon over you immediately.”

“Smart casual, got it,”

“Do you even own jeans?”

“Do you ever brush your hair?”

“You’re unbelievable, fuck.”

- _These doubts, all these worries_

David daydream is interrupted by a tired looking Donald Hoobler, who pats him on the back and sits down next to him on the substitutes bench. They recover their breath watching one of Skip Muck’s long passes get intercepted. 

Just as Joe has squared round the point guard and shot on target, a grin appears on Hoobler's face.

“How’s the project going?”

David sighs, leaning down to tie his laces tighter. “He’s refusing to let me do any research before I’ve seen the film.”

"That’s fair I’d say,” his friend replies. "But look at you breaking all your own rules and starting late like some kind of madman. Haven’t you imploded yet?”

“I fucking know, I don’t know why I’m humoring him.”

Coach Spiers whistles then to call everyone still playing together. David sees Joe run a hand through his now dishevelled hair as he heads over to the group slowly.

“Is he being nicer to you?”

David regards his friend for a moment. “Come on, you of all people know Joe can’t stand any part of me.” 

Hoobler chuckles. “Well he’s stopped glaring at you so much at lunch,” he argues, much to David’s amusement. “Hell, I saw him talking with you all amicable yesterday in the lunch line.”

David shakes his head. “We’re only going to watch the movie, he was giving me directions to his house,” he explains. “And he actually argued with me about how best to get there.” 

“Joe argues with his shoelaces.” Hoobler reasons promptly. “I’m sure he can tolerate you. Otherwise he wouldn’t invite you.”

“Yeah, maybe.” 

Joe meets his eyes across the room for a moment. If he flushes it's down to the sprints they've been doing.

“The Sound of Music right?” 

David wants to laugh. “Yep,” he exhales.

"Not gonna lie - It's... unusual," Hoobler chuckles.

“I'm glad im not alone," David mumbles. "What the hell is it with this film? It's so... I don't know - not Joe. I can’t imagine why he’s so obsessed with it.”

“Guess you’ll have to see for yourself.”

David hears the mirth in his voice, and sure enough, finds the grin to match when he looks. “What are you smiling about?”

“I’m enjoying this,” Hoobler admits.

“Enjoying what?”

“Seeing you all panicky, knowing that he’s one up on you for once.”

David is sure to raise his eyebrow real high. The whistle goes for him to get back up on his feet, and it feels like being saved by the bell.

“He's never been one up on me.”

\- _My homeland_

When he rings the doorbell of Joe's house after school on Friday, the door is pulled open by a young girl with familiar dark hair in a dotted green dress.

“Hello,” she greets him confidently.

“Hi,” David clears his throat. “Is Joe around?"

“I’m his sister,” she answers, and then, after a quick inspection adds. “I like your socks”

He looks down on instinct. “Thanks,” he tells her. “I’m David.”

“I’m Leah, and I just got these,” she says lifting up her own foot. “Pink is my favourite colour.”

“Mine too,” David agrees.

“Leah?” he hears Joe’s voice from somewhere behind her, before appearing himself next to the doorframe. “Stop it, come back inside” Joe commands.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” David shrugs. “She was sweeter to me than you are.”

Joe rolls his eyes. “Just come in.”

Joe’s house, from what David can tell based on the hallway, is very nice. On a cupboard by the wall, there's more pairs of shoes then he expects.

“You got any more siblings?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I’ve got four others,” Joe says.

“Four others?”

“Three boys and one other girl. They're not around tonight." 

David can't think of anything to say to that.

“Well?” Joe insists after a moment, alerting David of the fact he’s still standing around in his coat. “We better get started; it is kind of is a long haul.”

If it is, David doesn't notice. It isn't hard to see why any child would fall in love with the film. There’s music and dancing, summer and light; Joe eyes are still still fixated on the screen in his living room contentedly. 

The shift comes, and the last golden days in Austria are disrupted. The Nazi flags hung on Salzburg’s buildings, the Captain’s commission, and finding everything changed. 

Outside the light is pretty well gone and the streetlamp by the window has switched on.

When it's over David feels like he's walking out of the cinema and can’t quite shake himself out of a daze. It's like he's still sitting there in the room, but his mind is halfway round the world in another day and age.

On the other side of the couch, Joe watches the credits silently.

“I see what you mean,” David finally says.

Joe huffs a small laugh, turning to look at him. "Glad to hear it." 

A distant memory, something overheard ages ago, makes its way back into David's mind.

“You’re Austrian, right?”

Joe nods. “My grandparents moved over here before the war, but I’ve been there to see family a couple times…” 

"That why you like this film?"

“I think people just don’t get it over here. Or they just don't know." 

"What do you mean?"

Joe considers the question for a moment. "What it’s like to lose your homeland, how to survive it, six years of hell on your doorstep. That’s all stuff I heard my grandparents talk about,” Joe muses. “That’s why I hate people saying it’s just a stupid musical, cause that's plain bullshit. Dismisses the best part of the story.” 

“That scene where everyone sang Edelweiss,” David suggests.

Joe smiles. “Yeah. I mean, someone watched that in 1965 and felt the same emotions I’m feeling right now. Ain't that the point of great art?."

“When did you first see it?”

"I was four or five, I think. We all got pretty obsessed...” He pauses then like he’s contemplating something, and then stands up to leave the room. “Fuck it, you're here now. I’ll show you.”

David watches him come back in, holding something that looks like a photo fame. When he sits down again, he shoves it into David’s hands.

It is a picture. Six dark haired kids clothed in dresses and trousers out of white fabric with green decorum, much like the curtains in the movie, all grinning widely at the camera. David immediately spots a much younger Joe holding a guitar.

“No way,” he exclaims. “Well hell, I guess this is what you have six kids for.”

Joe snorts. "We were one short. I made a good Friedrich though, even without the blonde hair.”

“You’re far more like Liesl.”

“That’s the argument I made to my sister. But it turns out she’s even more like Liesl than I am.”

David puts the frame down in front of him. “I see”

"Tell anyone about it and I'll kill you," Joe warns in the following quiet. 

"I expect nothing less." 

At the sound of Joe's sudden snort, David turns to face him.

“What?”

“I just noticed you’re wearing fucking shark socks.”

David makes sure to take a drawn out second to admire his feet. “Don’t like them?”

“You’re a walking parody of yourself, Webster.”

“That’s not a no.”

David watches him do his usual shaking of the head incredulously thing, which is actually kind of nice. _Nice?_ He thinks to himself. _That's new._

There is the sound of a door opening then, and Leah appears slowly from behind it.

“Leah, was möchtest du zum Abendbrot essen?” Joe asks her.

“Soup,” she answers.

“Just soup?”

"Ich habe nicht so viel Hunger, gib mir einfach ein bisschen Brot dazu"

David ends up leaning against the counter in Joe’s kitchen, after his offers to help with cooking are turned down with accusations of doubting Joe’s culinary abilities.

“What’s your plan for next year?” Joe asks him from behind the stove. 

“Study,” David tells him quickly.

“Study what?”

“Literature, I think. But I’m considering some kind of combined degree.”

“You saying you haven’t planned it all down to the nearest aquarium?”

“It just depends where I get accepted,” David answers smiling.

Joe frowns. “You’d get in anywhere.” 

“Not where my parents want me to go.”

Joe doesn’t seem to think it through deeply.

“This is coming from the guy who recited the entire Bill of Rights word for word on the spot from memory. You’ll be fine.”

David flushes at the memory, and a little at Joe still recalling it. “I remember Nixon’s face when I proved I could do it, he thought it was so fucking funny.”

Joe looks like he's trying not to smile.

“What about you? Plans for the future?”

“Not sure,” Joe says as he stirs the soup. “I know I love art- so I was hoping to do something there.

“What kind of thing?”

“The practical. Sketching, painting, that sort of stuff.”

“That’s a great idea.”

“Think so?”

“Yeah, why not?” David says easily.

Joe sighs and rubs his free hand over his face. “Usual stuff - I’m naive and not that good. Slim chance I could make an actual career out of it.”

David hasn’t actually seen his drawings, but if anyone could succeed on pure willpower it would be Joe. 

“You’re also really stubborn, which helps,” David supplies. “Didn't we just watch a whole song about confidence?”

David feels Joe search his face again, like he’s making sure he's not being mocked.

“True.” 

Soon enough Leah joins them, dragging a little step stool out to stand on and watch Joe make her dinner.

“Almost done?” 

“Yeah, five minutes.”

David smiles at her when she studies him still standing by the counter beside them.

“Mochte David den Film?” She asks her brother after a moment.

“Ich mochte ihn gerne,” David decides to tell her. Joe turns to him, looking a little startled.

“You speak German?”

“Pretty much. I learnt some at school and did a few summer courses.”

Joe’s expression is something between surprised and disbelief, but he doesn’t say anything else and returns his gaze to the food.

“What?” David asks, like he’s missing the punchline.

“Nothing.”

Leah steps down then and heads for the door. When she tells David that he "siehst ein bisschen aus wie der Kapitän,” Joe’s façade breaks and he bursts into laughter.

“Das ist nett von dir.” David responds as she runs off somewhere, taking the opportunity to smirk at Joe.

“I’m assuming there’s always been high praise for me in this house.”

“Oh yeah,” Joe deadpans. “Only thing we talk about at dinner. That shark guy who's project Joe is going to save from overblown unnecessary metaphors.”

“Fuck you,” David counters good naturedly. 

On Monday morning the two of them meet in the still fairly empty school library, where Joe ends up reading the screen of David’s laptop while David paces back and forth behind him.

“You wrote all this in two days?” Joe asks eventually.

“To be honest, most of it the evening I came home.”

Joe scrolls up and down the page a few times. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you? 

“It’s a curse,” he says, and Joe simply shakes his head. 

David finds himself looking at him as he reads. He's wearing a dark blue hoodie with a couple of paint stains on the sleeves.

It’s good, it’s really good,” he insists firmly.

“Are you gonna add your stuff soon?

“I’ll write it tonight so I can show you tomorrow. I promise.” 

- _Edelweiss._

The highlight of mid-week turns out to be an unusually focused George Luz building a five-tier house of cards on the canteen lunch table like he’s constructing some priceless masterpiece, one that could withstand something simple like Joe Toye in its proximity. Unfortunately, and rather predictably, such a masterpiece it is not, and the whole thing is knocked down into Luz’s plate seconds after it stands. 

What follows, David thinks, is a mix of the weird tension between those two, and a genuine argument about who should get to skip chemistry that afternoon on ethical grounds Luz often is a self-proclaimed expert in.

“Why don’t you both just not go?” David asks them.

“Because we’ve got a group project due in two days, and Mr Stick Up His Ass All The Time will get suspicious if were both missing and letting Doc and Tony do all the work.

“Luz, I’m right here man.”

“I know Doc, I’m sorry. I just can’t handle seeing more hydrocarbons this week. I just can’t.”

“You skipped last week already,” Toye insists.

“And I spent like ten minutes on this thing,” he gestures towards the dispersed cards, a mere shadow of their former glory.

Toye addresses Joe next, who’s been sketching in the table’s corner and ignoring the conversation. “Hey Joe, what do you think?” 

“Hmm?” Joe hums noncommittedly. “Oh, about who gets to skip class? I really don’t give a shit guys.” 

For the past ten minutes he’s been quietly sketching again, the same amount of time David has been trying to keep himself from looking over at him too much.

“What are you drawing?” Luz inquires beside him.

“I’ll show you when it’s done,” Joe replies.

“When’s that?”

“Just wait a damn minute,” he says brushing him off. “Alright, here.”

Luz takes the sketch block from him and puts on an I’m a moderately serious guy face.

“Flowers?” he questions. And after a beat, “right?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s badass Joe - looks good.”

“Thanks…”

“Can you draw me sometime?” 

“Why the fuck not.”

“Yeah I won’t even charge.”

Joe looks him dead in the eye. “If you’re making the commission, you’re paying me.”

"I'm the exception to that rule," George assures him as the bell goes. 

When David gets up to leave, he sees Joe tear the page out of his book and offer it to him across the table. David takes it without a word, though a little hesitantly. 

He looks at the drawn view of a mountain side; grass blowing sideways on the slopes, a trodden path and some clustered groups of little white flowers beside it. 

“Edelweiss,” Joe says.

David looks at him. “This is really good.” 

“Think so?”

Yeah,” he says sincerely.

Joe shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, keep it if you like.”

“Thanks, Joe,” David says before Joe disappears in the crowd. 

On the way to English with Hoobler, he’s still looking at the drawing when his side is nudged suggestively.

“Told ya you’d get friendly,” he says cheerfully.

“Shut up. Not a word.”

David doesn't expect much to change between them. He's used to competing with him; pushing and challenging him whatever might be happening, and receiving it all right back. But he can't help but notice it does happen. They speak to each other more and more until David finds he doesn't have him figured out the way he used to. 

Then Joe sits down next to him at the front of history class. Several eyes are raised at them, some more amused than others. He blurts out something forced about Joe finally trying to concentrate and receives a deserved punch in the arm.

\- _High and low_

The worn pile of papers in Nixon’s hands look like it’s been through _a lot_ as he flicks through it and tells them he’s finished grading the assignments.

He approaches their table with a grin. “Webster, Liebgott, hell - this was surprising. Well done, both of you” he praises. “Special thanks for leaving each other whole in the process. Oh and…” he says flipping one of the pages around. “Yeah…There’s a coffee stain on page three, sorry about that,” Nixon adds before he leaves the paper on their desk. 

David looks after him with amusement.

“Well, shit.”

“What?” David asks.

Joe shoves the paper towards him. “We got an A.”

David nods. “That’s great.”

“My first in this class,” he says quietly.

David frowns at that. “You serious?”

“So far,” he returns, still looking at the paper. "But not the last, consider yourself warned." 

David snorts. "We wait in earnest for your full potential."

Joe shoves him in the side, and David throws his pencil back at him, and they're both grinning.

Joe clears his throat then. “I guess I owe you a thank you.”

“We wrote it together,” David concedes, slightly startled at Joe’s kind tone. “And it was your idea, so I should be thanking you."

Yeah, you should,” he's smirking again, and David rolls his eyes. Then a little louder, a moment later. “Glad you liked the movie.”

David smiles. “It was pretty great,” he admits 

They look at each other for a beat, and David reminds himself he's being irrational in acknowledging the warmth in his stomach. Joe turns before he cans ay anything else.

“Hey Guarnere!” he calls. Bill looks up from across the room, a content smirk on his face. “Well?”

“A respectable B+” He answers. “Don’t tell me you did better.”

Joe draws an A in the air with his finger, and Bill responds with a whistle.

“Nice one guys!” Babe congratulates.

Twenty bucks, Bill,” Joe reminds him. “Pay up.”

“I’d hoped you woulda forgotten.” He makes a point of taking his wallet out of his jacket ceremoniously and getting two bills out. “Here you go, now stop smirking. And well done to ya. Both of ya.” 

David is sure the suggestive wink he shoots him makes him blush, which is even more alarming.

They continue to sit together. Sometimes Joe asks for his thoughts on the sketches he’s working on. It’s distracting and welcome, though David feels kind of mortified when Nixon actually has to remind him to pay attention twice.

Everyone’s amused as hell of course, David’s hearing more laughter each day. Every damn time him and Joe speak there seems to be someone watching with a grin.

But then again, he doesn’t really give a shit, because him and Joe are okay. It hadn't even occurred to David that he'd care about it, but now it's there and he can't put his finger on the relief, and more often, the rush.

“The real von Trapps never returned to Austria?” He asks Joe when they’re walking out after class at the end of the day.

“Nope. They ended up on some farm in Vermont, but still performed over here,” Joe explains. “Then Maria wrote a book about their lives, and Broadway saw the dollar signs.”

“So some sort of happy ending.”

“Not sure about that,” Joe muses. “You know Georg von Trapp, the guy they based the Captain on, died in 1947.”

“Hm,” David responds absently. “Then he never got to go home again.”

“Guess so.”

David continues to think out loud. “Even if he could have gone back, it wouldn’t have been the same country he remembered.”

Joe looks at him then thoughtfully, like he’s really considering it seriously. “No, probably not.”

When they reach Joe’s locker, it takes David a beat to notice Cobb is glaring at them from the other side of the hallway.

“What are you looking at?” Cobb insists when he notices him watching. David doesn’t bother replying. This week he's been on the receiving end of frequent taunts relating to one thing only, Cobb being their main source. It's taken a lot not to go over and hit the guy straight. Joe is not so calm and clear headed, and answers.

"I thought I heard the sound of crass stupidity."

"Oh give me a break," Cobb snarled. "You know you don't have to sneak around after school, everyone knows what you're doing."

Joe doesn't even turn to face him. "That so?"

Cobb mumbles something to himself then that David doesn’t quite pick up, but Joe seems to, and moves over to him after slamming his locker shut.

“You wanna repeat that for me?”

“I think you should take a few steps back from me right now, you Jewish fucker.”

Joe’s face is calm suddenly. David expects him to flip, to punch the guy’s lights out or something. But he doesn’t. Instead he turns around and motions to David that they should leave.

But Cobb calls after them, and David hears his name coupled with another word that still shakes him a little. Joe stops dead in his tracks and turns around. Before he can say a thing Joe has marched back over to Cobb and punched him straight under the eye.

Everything after happens quickly.

There’s a splitting crack that makes his stomach twist, and then Joe is hit back square in the face. David doesn’t exactly realize how angry he is until after stepping forward, grabbing Cobb’s shirt, and kneeing him in the stomach firmly.

A sharp pain shoots through his side when someone pulls him over then, but that’s all the damage done before Lipton and Toye show up shouting and drag them all apart. He then registers some expectant looks from both of them, and the reason why.

Joe’s nose is bleeding. 

David shakes himself and fights off the urge to freeze up. “Come on,” he says to him, putting his hand on Joe’s back and leading him away from everyone. 

- _Something good_

By the time David emerges from the nurse’s office, the school is pretty deserted. He finds Joe still sitting in the corridor around the corner, out of sight from any teachers.

Joe looks grateful when he hands him the ice pack. “Did they ask?”

“No,” David assures him as he sits down. “Told the nurse I hurt my knee in PE.”

Joe takes it from him and presses it to his check gently, flinching a little at the strong hit of sudden cold. He still looks angry, and avoids David’s eyes.

“I’m really sorry, Joe” he manages.

“Bout what?” 

David nods in the general direction of the hallway.

Joe huffs his dismissal. “He’s a fucking idiot. I’m glad it was me.”

David swallows. “Sorry you got punched though.”

“This?” Joe eyes the ice pack as he takes it off his skin for a moment. “It’ll be fine by morning, and the bruising gone soon enough.” 

“I appreciate it,” David decides to say. Joe doesn’t smile at him, but finally turns to observe him for a moment. “But you didn’t have to. He's called me that before- sure he will again.”

“I could have left it,” Joe agrees and clears his throat, “…would have, but that stuff pisses me off so much.”

“It’s true you know,” David blurts out.

“Doesn’t matter if it’s true, Web,” Joe responds intently. “He doesn't have the right to say that kind of thing to you - for you, even.” 

They sit there and watch their feet for a while longer. When David realizes he’s been holding his breath and his lungs are burning, he decides it's as good a time as any to ask.

“Why don't we like each other?”

Joe looks at him quickly. “What?”

“I mean- we've known each other a long time, but we've never been friends. More like the opposite I'd say." 

Joe looks a little surprised at the turn of conversation. "Yeah," he agrees. "Guess that's just how things happened. We're very different." 

"Sure, but you know-" David begins. "We still talked. Hell, it was all arguing, but we talked. Then you kind of started avoiding me altogether,” David pauses. He doesn’t look at Joe. “Guess I was just wondering if I pushed you too far or something. Or really offended you-

“David,” Joe interrupts pretty patiently. “Stop talking. You’re making me nervous.”

“Okay.” 

Joe’s voice is low, but soft. “You didn’t offend me.”

The flickering lights in the hallway buzz above them and fill the silence.

“Why the fuck are we talking about all this stuff here?” Joe says incredulously.

David has to laugh, peering over at him. “Your face is still bleeding.”

“Sure is,” Joe agrees.

The two of them meet eyes then, and after a moment, burst into low, adrenaline fueled type of laughter.

“Sorry,” David apologizes more sympathetically. 

Nah – I mean,” Joe takes the ice pack down from his cheek again for examination. “You’re right.”

“I’m laughing with you not at you.”

“That’s rare.”

“Shut up.”

A second of warmth flashes across Joe’s face, gone as quickly as it came. “At least he’ll leave you alone now.”

“Doubt it.”

Joe looks at him again. “I don’t.” 

Joe texts him that night, just to tell him he’s alright and that he shouldn’t worry. He asks about David too.

He can sense he’s blushing when their conversation dissolves to the sharp back and forth, the teasing and challenging he knows all too well. He presses his face firmly into the pillow next to him, and it starts to make sense. How the chances he was already screwed aren’t really chances anymore, and that he might have been for some time already.

\- _Whether or not I should_

“Alright, out with it.” Hoobler insists one morning in English, snapping David out of his current reverie. “What’s going on, do you like him?”

“Sorry?”

"You’re doing the whole staring at distant stuff thing,” Hoobler says vaguely motioning to the space in front of them with his hand. “All week actually – it’s not like you. “

David sighs. “I’m just tired.”

“David, you know you can talk to me about this.”

“I know.”

“Do you like him?” Hoobler repeats unfazed.

There’s no point in feigning confusion at who they’re talking about.

“I don't know what I think,” David says simply. "Everyone's been doing my thinking for me." Hoob looks at him sympathetically, and David sighs. "He's changed," he adds softly.

“I know, we’ve all noticed.”

David takes it in as they exchange glances. The word about Joe punching Cobb for David had gotten around pretty fast. 

“He knows about me," David whispers.

Hoobler nods. “Then you should give it a shot.”

David raises an eyebrow but is all too aware the blush on his face is giving away his supposed indifference. “I haven’t confirmed anything yet”

“No,” Hoobler leans in conspiratorially when he continues, “but hypothetically, were it true, you could consider your wise friends’ advice.

Telling Joe. The idea alone is a little crazy. David feels like he's had a crash course in conflicting emotions over the course of the last month.

Hoobler interrupts his thoughts. “You’ve changed a little too you know.”

David turns to him. “Yeah?”

His friend is almost beaming. “You just seem less tense than before. The whole thing is actually quite poetic when you think about it.” 

David has to laugh. “Tell me about it." 

Hoobler pats him on the back easily in a way that assumes his advice will be put to good use. 

_If I don’t, I’ll just know I’ll turn back,_ David remembers. It's not a bad point.

- _Laendler_

Inviting students and families to an evening of fun at a fall school fair is a good idea. Food, games music; There's no way it couldn’t be. Except for the fact that Babe Heffron and John Julian have been put in charge of punch, a job so boring they've been working their way through the very much alcoholic contents of their plastic bottles to pass the time. David finds himself by one of the drinks stands on a Friday night with the two of them, especially _friendly_ tonight. 

"What a turn up," Julian chimes aloud. "I havent seen this many people together since my brother got married. Babe you've got a brother right?"

I've got two, but im pretending I don't. Hey Webster - do you want some punch? Or special punch? We brought a lot." 

David smiles. "I'm okay, thanks though." 

“Hey looks like they got a DJ, can you believe that?” Babe asks in mild outrage. He's pointing at some arbitrary place in the room, nowhere near the actual guy.

David leans against the counter. “Well, yeah I can. They always get a DJ.”

“Why didn’t they invite the Beatles, David? They had the budget.”

“How much of that punch have you had, Babe?”

Next to him Julian bursts into a series of giggles.

“Why do you say that?”

"Well, two of them aren’t really around anymore,” he explains looking around in the darkness. There's swarms of people, but he can't quite find him. 

"Have you guys seen Joe around?”

Babe's eyes light up. “It’s because you like him, right?”

“Babe, that’s a huge secret dude,” Julian warns prodding Babe’s side.

“Oh yeah - I really couldn’t tell you,” David mock whispers to them.”

Just as he begins to consider his recurring failure at parties, a tune that spurs his memory begins to ring out from the speakers around him. It’s instrumental and light, and vividly familiar somehow, something for a summer evening outside. He wonders why he can’t quite place it immediately. 

And then the picture hits him, the Laendler. 

He finally spots Joe, on the dance floor of all places. He effortlessly twirls his sister round and round, making himself smaller to make sure their arms can lift over their head. David feels a rush of everything, mainly surprise at the skill and grace Joe seems to possess in his movement. The image of him learning this dance, practicing it while watching the tv screen and probably as a young boy, makes David smile without thinking. 

Leah catches sight of him then, and waves. 

Joe turns too and finds David’s eyes across the room. After a beat, he leans down and whispers something to Leah, who smiles and runs off into the crowd.

“I requested this one,” Joe tells him when he comes closer.

“I figured. You know the whole thing, don’t you?” 

In the absence of his usual smug expression, Joe just shrugs with the smallest of smiles. “How about it?,” he asks motioning to the floor beside him.

David doesn’t react at first because he can’t quite register what he’s hearing. 

“Hm?” 

“You remember any of the steps?”

David isn’t sure if he’s hearing him all right. “You want me to dance with you?”

“Can you dance?” 

“No.” 

“Then I’ll show you,” Joe proposes. 

David shoots him another very skeptical and obviously worried look, but Joe just meets it with a serious one, and he realises he's not kidding.

The ease with which he could refuse, make a joke and leave it there.

But Joe isn’t going to ask him again, and there’s only so many times where you can pretend things are like a movie, even almost so. 

David finds himself stepping over into Joe’s space. 

“Who’s the captain?” he asks.

Joe snorts. “Who’s the Captain? Between the two of us who knows the goddamn steps?”

“Maria knew the steps too,” David counters.

“I’m obviously more the Captain, you know - in the air I exude and the stage presence I have.”

David shakes his head to himself. “Just shut up and teach me.”

It vaguely occurs to him that people can see them, even under dimmed lights. 

“Put your hands under mine like this,” Joe instructs, “Then we can step out in opposite directions - just one step. Yeah. Now I'll twirl you round, and our arms will be crossed over."

“Okay, alright...”

“Then,” Joe continues. “I’m you turn back round the same way and we can move our hands back to how they were again.”

“Wait – can…”

“Just do it, then I can show you.”

David almost trips twice and he’s fairly certain he’s never looked less suave in his life.

“I’m not so good at this,” David apologizes.

“You’re pretty shit actually.” 

David snorts. “Asshole.” 

“I’m just happy there’s something you can’t do.” 

“Trust you to find it.”

Joe gives him a knowing look. “We’ll go slower then.”

It might be the most conscious of himself he’s ever felt. 

Joe’s hand is still firmly on his waste and looking at him doesn’t seem like a viable alternative. They’re so close he can hear him breathing, slow and steady. He almost feels like burying his head in Joe’s shoulder.

“David,” Joe whispers so softly David has to meet his gaze. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “It’s just that I’m not very used to this.”

“You mean you don’t suppose you’re used to dancing?” Joe quotes perfectly, the stupid grin David has not been able to stop thinking about spread on his face.

David feels the music muffle. Maybe the song playing was already a different one, he couldn't really say. He hopes the dim light is covering his flushing when he remembers the scene.

Then they’re not really dancing anymore.

Hey,” Joe says. “I’m pretty sure I can hear you thinking right now.”

David breaths. He’s fairly certain he’s right about this. Joe is fixing him with an intent look that makes his head spin.

So, he tries something.

“Then you know what to do.”

Joe doesn’t wait long to move a hand up to his face, and David feels like the weight of a year is falling off his shoulders when he finally presses their lips together. His stomach flips and then flips again, and he can't believe he's wasted so much time without this. 

Joe draws his hand slowly through the hair on the back of David’s head. Everything lingers.

David hears the thought before he can stop it. _Of all the ways Joe Liebgott can use his mouth, this is by far the best._

“Should’ve taken you dancing sooner,” Joe mumbles when they break apart. “Well – actually, watching the way you’ve tarnished a great tradition, we probably shouldn't try again.” 

He almost laughs as he’s speaking, but David can hear the breathlessness in his voice.

“You must really like me.”

Joe undoubtedly tells him to shut up before he leans in again to kiss him. David doesn’t argue.

- _You need someone, older and wiser, telling you what to do_

One of the benefits of inside pockets, Lewis thinks, is that they accommodate the deep urge for whiskey that comes with deciding to be teacher. He’s grateful for remembering to bring something to spike the punch they're serving. Though all in all it hasn’t been an awful night. 

“Funny,” Dick comments. “My impression was that those two hated each other.”

Lewis follows his line of sight over to the other side of the room, where he sees Webster and Liebgott from senior history twirling, no- tripping around each other on the dance floor. He almost can’t believe it when his suspicions are confirmed, and Liebgott actually leans in and kisses him.

“I was right,” he states with immense satisfaction.

“About what?”

“They did, - hate each other I mean. Obviously, it wasn’t serious. Always fucking bickering and fighting with this weird tension between them, drove me nuts.” 

Dick stops watching them and turns to him inquisitively. “So, what happened?” 

“I decided they should get their shit together- made the pairs for a project this time. Forced them to talk. Get the anger out - seems it worked.” 

Lewis glances over at Dick as he stops talking. He's shaking his head until he gives in to the grin spreading across his face.

“I knew you were sentimental,” he finally says.

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone.”

Dick smiles at him fondly. "Want to dance?"

"Now who's sentimental," Lewis says as he accepts his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> sdfghj thank you very much for reading this :)
> 
> some notes:
> 
> \- I'm sure au teacher Lewis Nixon would hide a dog under his desk at school for a day  
> \- you should watch the sound of music if you haven't yet  
> \- I know a lot you (me included) aren't getting the chance to graduate like we expected to because of a certain pandemic. this is dedicated to all of you, things are gonna be okay <3  
> 


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